


It Takes a Village

by BlackSamuraiLiterature



Category: Shin Megami Tensei: Digital Devil Saga
Genre: Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-12
Updated: 2016-01-12
Packaged: 2018-05-13 12:22:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5707942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackSamuraiLiterature/pseuds/BlackSamuraiLiterature
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Those reincarnated into new bodies are believed to have been to settle past karma. Their thoughts—their data—carried on in the children of their likeness to fulfill their intended journey. Fred went into caring for them with not much know-how, even while parts of his own paternal figures remained close by.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Takes a Village

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Commentary: I’m pretty sure this isn’t even a story. More like an occurrence–an exercise really–but this was a mistake anyway, so whatever. Yeah, a mistake–a mistake that turned into a draft-able ordeal. Also: appologies I suck so much at summaries.

Fred went into parenting blind, yet it was a role he felt compelled to fulfill. Having his father stripped away from him at a young age, a guardian who could barely keep his own self connected, and an intelligent man he was barely allowed to know expired his childhood prematurely. He learned to be hard, self-sustaining because surviving in the world he used to know demanded such. Knowing how to support himself was far different than supporting several young children. Even if he did not do it alone, it was difficult to assess if he was acting accordingly. He tried to be delicate and kind, but the worry would not shake.

            The man felt odd comfort in watching the boy sitting alone across the way read his book fervently. Recognized the title as one commonly seen amidst his late guardian’s residence, until it too disappeared beneath melancholy and alcohol, was what Fred attributed the ease to. The boy’s separate self-indulgence proved akin to Fred’s present state in an obscure way—both ignoring the lush nature around them. The man could not remember a childhood filled with such greenery. He was simply too young to recall it if he had or too mature to enjoy it, subsequently why he made the effort to bring the children outside—to parks, to gardens, to forests—hoping that they could remember playing joyously in something he never had, playing joyously beneath the sun.

            Sunshine—that was what the boy’s hair reminded him of. It was a pure, light blonde that the man could not help but imagine as milky white, like the color it became when illuminated under direct light. Childish features failed to misshapen the boy’s fair cheeks placed high on his face. His thin nose was as content with the book’s content as much as his colorless eyes, or at least until their focus was pulled away by someone else calling out to him.

            Another boy ran up to him in delight exclaiming something the man could not hear. The uproar of the main gaggle of playing children, running to-and-fro, made it hard to hear anything else. It must have been an act of respectability, Fred though, for the blonde boy looked at him appraisingly. The other child complemented his friend’s appearance in every opposite—a dark complexion to balance the pale one. Fred could not help but give acute attention to his thick eyebrows as they rose with selfless pride, and his smiling speech caused his cheeks to do the same. It made Fred’s mind wander, rubbing at his own cheek and jawline, evaluating the likeliness between the second child and himself.

            The daze made realizing that the two boys warily began returning Fred’s gaze rough and awkward. None of their sights wavered until the boy’s faces snapped, like dear hearing a hunter, towards a woman calling out unpleasantly: “Gregory!”

            Startled the dark-haired child froze, then waved goodbye to his friend and ran off quickly. Hesitantly the other boy chased after Gregory. The interaction made Fred solemn, reminiscing his guardian’s confession years ago:

 

_“I turned my back on him…_

_… He was my best friend.”_

 

            An ache erupted in Fred’s chest.

            Yielding to the weight, he began to weep.

            “Why are you crying, Fred?” the man heard a child ask after some moments alone.

            Whipping away the tears, the man turned his face to greet the quizzical child who was looking at him with large blue eyes. Fred knew Gale to be the curious one, continually asking questions, trying to understand the world around him. He was a smart child, but, as perceptual as he was, Fred knew that his childish thought would not comprehend the depth of Fred’s sentiments.

            He would not comprehend why Fred wanted to give everything he could for the children he cared for as his own. He would not comprehend why Fred strained deeply to be the best parent he wanted to be. He would not comprehend how Fred’s own paternal patrons’ unconditional efforts, in their individual ways, affected him even after they have been long gone. It was something Gale had to understand on his own when the time came. Regardless, he tried to answer what he could.

            “Well, when you get teased, you cry?” the man said, “That’s because you’re sad, and when you laugh so hard tears come out of your eyes? That’s because you’re happy... When you feel emotions sometimes you need to let them out, and sometimes you’ll feel a lot of emotions all at once… We cry because we shouldn’t keep emotions locked inside, good or bad,”—Fred rested his hand on Gale’s shoulder—“so, Gale, remember that it’s okay to cry.”

            Fred could have sworn he saw recognition and awe in the boy’s expression, but it was faint and fleeting to discern for certain. Instead, a sincere smile and a light “uh-huh” replaced the child’s expression, and nothing more, because his attention was pulled towards his friends beckoning him. Slow steps rejoined Gale back to intermingling with the other children. Solace overtook Fred as he watched the group play. Worrying over the best path to take did not change the certainty that one day he would not be there for them physically, but he understood that he did not need to. Until the children realized it, the best he could do, as a parent, was to try his hardest to prepare them for when it happened.


End file.
